


Cliff's Edge

by holtzingyou



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Lab Partners, Sexual Content, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 14:40:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8060293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holtzingyou/pseuds/holtzingyou
Summary: Songfic: Teen AU where your first love is your lab partner: Jillian Holtzmann. Somehow a study session turns into her taking your hand and demanding adventure. Your destination: Cliff’s Edge.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song 'Cliff's Edge', by Hayley Kiyoko.
> 
> Alternative title: From Science to Sex Real Quick.

When Holtzmann dances, it’s all in her hips. You sit - stiff but amused - on the edge of your bed, watching her celebratory body rolls. You love that her joy is always so exuberant. At the bemused and impressed look on your physics teacher’s face today, she’d gleefully kicked a chair clear across the classroom. Science project title: Scientific Illusions. Holtz’s idea: ‘can hot water freeze faster than cold water?’ Grade: A*. Your personal understanding of the sorcery Holtz pulled: 0%.

What you _do_ understand is that all Holtzmann’s hard work resulted in an A* on your record, so when she grabs your hands and pulls you up to dance with her, you can’t refuse. You let her lead you in some form of Holtz-ified waltz, your music being your classmate singing a song whose lyrics were limited to _‘I’m a genius’_ , for longer than you should, before reverting back to being the voice of reason.

“We still have to study, Holtzmann.”

Your words do not put a stopper on her dancing. “For what?”

“For the test tomorrow!” You squeal, digging around in your desk draw for your physics textbook.

“ _Pfffft._ ” She waves a dismissive hand in front of her face. “Studying is for boys and babies.”

“Holtzmann!”

“Finish the sentence: Every action has an equal and…” She gestures towards you dramatically, her lips curving into an open, anticipatory smile.

“…opposite reaction.”

“ _Ding ding ding!_ We have a winner! Congratulations, you are officially a scientist! Ma’am, how does it feel to have earned a PhD in Newton’s Third Law?” She holds out an invisible microphone to you.

“Not that great, considering that’s not even what the test is about.”

She grabs your face with both hands, and touches her forehead to yours. “Studying. Is. For. Boys. And. Babies. Let’s go out.”

“Newton’s Third Law is for boys and babies.” You mutter as she grabs your hands again, chuckling, and pulls you out of your bedroom, down the stairs, out the front door, and into her car.

And now she’s driving, her fingerless gloves pressed against the steering wheel, her curls bouncing with every bump and pothole in the road. Evening paints the horizon pink and gold, and those colours are the perfect combination to give her skin an ethereal glow. A seed was planted when you had been introduced to Holtzmann and all her brilliance after being assigned as her lab partner. In this moment, simple as it is, that seed blossoms into something you can no longer control: a painfully desperate crush. We’re talking _‘holy shit, do me now’_ proportions of desperate. If it isn’t her insane intelligence turning you on, it’s definitely the exposed dip in her waist where her crop top ends and her dungarees don’t yet begin.

She’s humming along to the radio, head bobbing. You have no idea where she’s taking you, but you know exactly where you want to go. Speaking in terms of bases, of course. You wonder what she’d make of your feelings. A majority of the conversations the two of you’d had were about science. She’d given away snippets of personal information, but for all her extroverted antics she seemed at heart a private person. She was, however, very flirty, and you hadn’t yet worked out if she was like that with everyone, or if she gave you a little extra.

“Holtzmann.” You say, barely realising you’ve even said it, and struggling to gather your thoughts into a coherent and non-creepy sentence.

“The Earth orbits the sun in a circular path.”

“False.”

“You little genius, you.” She smirks, her eyes never once leaving the road.

“You’re questions are too easy, I’m gonna fail.” You frown, momentarily side-tracked from your previous train of thought.

“A diode only allows current to flow one way in a circuit. Due to the sensitivity of a diode it must be protected by a resistor and so current stays constant until about +0.7V, where current flow increases rapidly. However, if the voltage is reversed and is raised to a high enough value, current will flow in the opposite direction. What is this value known as?”

“What?”

“PhD revoked. _Hoo boy_ , you _are_ gonna fail that test tomorrow.”

“Holtzmann!”

She grins as she glances at you, no doubt preparing for another quick remark, but you must look flustered, or have some trace of desire still on your face because her jaw, ever so subtly, goes slack, and her eyes don’t go back to the road.

“You good?” She asks you, voice hoarse, and you have to suppress a bubble of laughter because judging by the way she shifts in her seat you ought to ask her the same.

You’re hit with a wave of boldness, so instead of answering her you pry her white-knuckled grip from the wheel and lace your fingers together. She swallows and looks back to the road in time to notice she’s run a red light. You don’t give her time to think about that before you pull her hand between your legs. You’re wearing shorts, and the skin of her fingers feels like electric against your thighs.

She takes a sharp turn onto a backroad, and you swear she’s stepped on the peddle because your heart rate and the speed of the car seem to be increasing at the same rate. She’s untangled her fingers from yours and is palming you through your denim, but the way she’s biting her lip is preventing her from saying anything. _You_ physically _can’t_ say anything because there’s sweat pooling at the back of your knees, and something else pooling in your panties.

She pulls over, hard, and the warmth of her hand at your core is gone. She slams the door upon exiting her car. You worry for a moment, but then she’s there, opening the passenger side for you and helping you out. She squeezes your waist, and as she takes a moment to rest her head on the back of your shoulder, audibly groaning, you take in your surroundings and recognise the trees flanking the road as a pathway to the local lake.

“Holtzmann, where… why…” You let that sorry excuse for a sentence trail off as she slips her fingers under the hem of your shirt.

“Y/N.” She sighs, and then she turns you and pushes you against the car until you have no choice but to hop up onto the bonnet. She stands between your legs and rests one hand behind you, and the other goes straight beneath your underwear. She locks eyes with you as her fingers tease your entrance and her thumb brushes your clit, and she’s fucking smirking as if she has you right where she wants you – right where she’s wanted you all along.

You can’t deal with that look on her face right now, so you wrap your arms around her neck, and she wastes no time pressing kisses to yours. Through hooded eyes you note that the horizon is burning red as the sun dips ever lower. Holtzmann’s teeth graze your ear, and your hips buck against her hand, willing her to touch you harder and faster, but too nervous to ask for it. Her fingers have curled inside you, her thumb still pressing your nub, and you feel that it’s all too soon when you tense, and gasp, and feel, for the first time in your life, the release of orgasm. The red of the sky stays when you close your eyes, and Holtzmann is laughing.

“Too easy, babe.” She pats your knee, and kisses the tip of your nose, and when you open your eyes, you see that she’s stepped away from you to do a series of victorious fist-pumps. “Come on, baby, that was merely the aperitif.” She’s beckoning for you to follow her as she heads towards the trees. You step down from the bonnet on shaky legs, and reach for her outstretched hand.

“How long?” She asks, as the two of you match stride in the forest.

“Huh?” You’re a million miles away, still lost in the explosion of stars that was your first orgasm.

“How long have you…” she gives you a mischievous smile that brings you back to Earth, and grinds her hips, “…wanted my _bod-ay_.” She enunciates, and you have to suppress the girliest giggle your body has ever produced at her comical tone.

“I…” You shrug and go shy. “I don’t know. I think you’re… cool.”

“You let everyone you think is cool touch you like that?”

You blush. “Just you. ‘Cause I also think you’re hot – no – beautiful, and funny, and really, really smart, and… just… super interesting…” You look at her, hoping she’s not freaked out by your declaration. She’s looking down at her feet, and not smiling anymore, but her grip on your hand has tightened. You’re struck with a jolt of anger that makes you want to knock out anyone and everyone who has ever made her feel less than, because it’s clear now from the nervous set of her jaw (that’s prodding her dimples into place) that she is a private person because she’s insecure. Just when you form the gall to say something heartfelt, and inspirational, her amused smirk snaps back into place.

“Sounds like you’ve been falling in love with me for quite some time now then, huh?” She winks.

“Holtz-!” You’re cut off as she pulls you close for a kiss. It’s deep, and her body is pressed to yours from chest to pelvis. She’s kissing you as if she’s willing the two of you to merge into a single person. You’re kissing her back as if the science test tomorrow is going to be about her anatomy. Just when you decide your sole purpose in life is to kiss Jillian Holtzmann, and that you don’t wanna spend any time doing anything other than that, she pulls away. The air seems grey, and it might be because the sun has finally gone down, but you think it’s because you and Holtzmann aren’t touching anymore.

You follow her until there’s a small break in the trees, the width of which only allowing single file. The path leads to a setting straight out of a movie: an alcove of trees, decorated with boulders and rocks that lead to the edge of the lake. She sits, and, dazzled, you sit next to her. When she tucks your hair behind your ear the colour comes back; the water is so dark it’s almost black, but it shimmers as a gentle breeze forms tiny waves, and the deep blue night yields a fat yellow moon.

You shift onto your knees to kiss her again, with just as much ferocity as the last time. Your knee scrapes against something rough, perhaps an exposed tree root, and though it hurts, and you think it might be bleeding, nothing could make you want to pull away from her. She’s taken her gloves off, to better feel you, you hope, and her hands are in your hair.

“Do you want me to-”

“Yes.” You breathe, not waiting for the end of the question because whatever she wants to do to you, you want her to do to you.

Her hands slide down to you shorts and she undoes the button, and slowly – tantalisingly slow – loosens your zipper. You wiggle your hips to help her remove the garment. The motion makes you fall back. You both laugh, and you take the opportunity to lay yourself down. Once your shorts are gone, she hovers over you, her hips pressing into yours. You want her to kiss you again, but she hooks an arm behind your back, lifting you enough to tug your top over your head. Then, she stops, taking in the sight of you, sighing in appraisal as her eyes raise goosebumps wherever they look. You reach for her hips, and she grabs both your wrists.

“You’re new to this, aren’t you?” She says, in a way that suggests she’s not. The thought only turns you on more. As you nod, you hook a leg around her torso, trying to gain enough purchase to pull her too you. She lets go of your wrists to slide her hands down your thighs. “Well then, allow me, madam.”

Her lips graze yours, fleetingly, before she trails kisses along your jaw, nips at your earlobe, bites your neck, and then soothes the pain with her tongue. She kisses your shoulder, your collar bone, the dip between your breasts, and then she’s kissing a uniform line from the bottom of your bra to the top of your panties. She hooks her fingers in your underwear, then pauses to look at you for approval. You nod, already breathing heavily and aching for her. She removes them, taking her time sliding them off your legs – which are shaking again. She notes this, and pauses again.

“Are you nervous?” She asks, eyebrows quirked. You nod, and her hand goes to your navel, strokes downwards. “Don’t be.” She whispers. “It’s only me.”

You want to grab her then, and scream at her that the only _‘only’_ she could ever be described with is _‘the_ only _one you want to touch you like this’._ You do grab her, fingernails digging welts into her shoulders, because her teeth are pinching your thigh. And then her mouth is on you, and her tongue strokes tantalising delineations between your legs, and her hands are smoothing over every inch of you she can reach. You impulsively tug at her hair, because it’s nothing like you’ve ever felt before, and she hums in appreciation.

She slides her arms underneath you to rest your legs on her shoulders, allowing for a deeper and more extensive reach. Your feel helpless, your back gathering dry earth, your hair tangling with broken twigs, and your eyes searching the inky leaves that quiver above you. You’re lost in sensations – Holtzmann’s tongue, her lips and her fingers, the weight of her arms over you, her curls tickling your inner thighs, and it feels as though the night breeze is caressing your skin as lovingly as she is. You imagine yourself replaying this setup in your mind for many nights to come – many _years_ even, because you can’t imagine this moment ever leaving you. Though helpless, and unable to move aside from the occasional twitch and squirm of your hips, you also feel safe, because it’s Holtzmann, and she’s got you, and _holy shit_ you’re on the edge, and _holy fucking shit_ this climax is even better than the last one; your toes curl, and your fists clench, and you really do see stars this time. You think you might’ve whined her name, but you’re not sure until you see the look of pure satisfaction on her face.

“Was the main course to your liking, madam?” Her grin is truly shit-eating.

“I don’t know, Holtz, ‘cause you did all the eating.”

She throws her head back to laugh, and it’s hearty, and you all but melt because she looks gorgeous silhouetted by the moonlight. You sit up, reach for her, and she meets you half away. She rests her forehead against yours, this time touching her nose to yours.

“I, uh,” she sighs “I really like you. Quite… quite a fair amount.”

“I like you quite a fair amount too, Holtzmann.” You tell her.

“Do you wanna be… more than lab partners? By any chance?”

You really can’t help but kiss her, quick and gentle.

“Holtz. I’m yours.”

"Mine.” She repeats, and squeezes the breath out of you.


End file.
